“I'm eating a meat-based diet and if I have to look at another burger I think I will cry. Are you still KETO? Or do you work enough that you can eat carbs?”

-Jamie

…

My darling niece, as if she doesn't have enough to worry about with this phony plague is being pulled this way and that by diet gurus promising what Americans always promise, your cake and eating it too.

First, when people ask me if “i am keto” that is like a catholic in 1518 Spain wearing a black cowl and robes, surrounded by guys in masks and leather aprons who seem like a cross between a butcher and and carpenter, asking me if I'm a Lutheran.

I am James, or to you, Uncle Jimmy. I am not keto. My Master, Rick, to whom I am yet a disciple of dietary weirdness does say, “I am keto,” and means it. I learned from his constant argument with everyone he knows about diet, that I would never claim to be keto. I tell people. “I am Rick's experiment. I only eat what is on Rick's list.”

This usually holds up well. When I a staying with The Captain, and he offers me something not on Rick's list and I say, “Thank you, but no,” he shakes his head and mutters something about Rick being a hard man. Then when his darling wife says, “LaFond, please, have some of my Carb Casserole, The Captain will blurt, “Mamma Bear—it's not on Rick's list! Leave the man alone,” to which I will graciously answer, “Jenn, thank you for testing my will. I'm sure, somewhere Rick is proud of me.”

But, Rick occasionally gets outranked, for instance, when The Colonel is present and says, “Whose Rick? Fuck Rick—eat up Sunshine or I'll strap some liver to you and give you a mile head start before I set the hounds on your scent!”

On such occasions, I might be moved to agree, “Maybe Rick is away from his Keto Crystal...”

Concerning my life as Rick's Disciple I lost 50 pounds, 40 in 6 weeks and ten in the next three months. I am have been between 170 and 180 for the past 2 years. I have not stayed under 170 for the simple fact, that I cheat on Rick. About once a week I drink real beer. I am convinced that if I cut beer out completely I would finally achieve my Billy Idol with Cancer look that I want. But I lack Rick's iron will—why he is the master and I am his metabolic experiment.

Some things that I consume that Rick shakes his head at are:

-beer

-light beer

-rum

-peanuts [which, along with other legumes, hover on the margins of Rick's list]

-chlorinated water

-water with floride

-blackberries and raspberries [Rick only approves blueberries and strawberries]

Rick does believe that the ultimate goal is to eat carnivore. However, he can't stand organ meat so remains a step below full Paleo. So even Rick—you will be happy to know is a neighbor of yours, and who recently beat up a bigger, younger man at a Pittsburgh gas station the very day he finished up his chemotherapy—falls short in his critical, dietary mind's eye.

I have been able to tell when I go in and out of that ketosis state. It turns out to be very easy for me. I do not suffer keto flu, never get hungry unless I get drunk—which only happens when The Captain, The Colonel, Garland, Yeti Waters, Manny Soprano, Mescaline Franklin, Slaprodite [a savage peasant girl] or some other host of mine suggests this altered state.

Due to my hernias and my brain-eye malfunction, I can only walk 8 miles, have to be careful hiking and digging, and can only do light sparring and training that does not vibrate my fritzing brain. So, my ability to burn calories at a high rate is basically limited to getting wet in the cold after just eating vegetables and meat, which might not be the healthiest thing.

I do drink 2-7 cups of coffee a day which does keep hunger at bay. But I have found that the main way to keep from being hungry is to just eat one meal, and have it consist of 2 avocados, or drink a pint of warm pork grease—bacon preferably.

Good luck, My Dear Girl and find a way of eating that is somewhere between what you want and what you should eat for maximum sustainability.